Never Drink Bourbon On An Empty Stomach
by planet p
Summary: AU; three reasons to never drink bourbon on an empty stomach; three dreams Miss Parker could have done without.


**Never Drink Bourbon On An Empty Stomach** by planet p

**Disclaimer** I don't own _the Pretender_ or any of its characters.

* * *

1.

Typically, the meeting place turned out to be an abandoned warehouse. Pushing aside any unpleasant thoughts that may have included abandoned warehouses – or miscellaneous similar places; farmhouses with sheds, say – Lyle regarded his adversary, Mr. White, with wary and launched into a hopefully very brief explanation that when duelling for the affections of a lady, the proper thing to do was to employ the use of swords, as they had in... well, whenever, it didn't really matter. That was just how it was done.

Looking much more amused than Lyle would have hoped, Mr. White reeled off a casual, "Someone could seriously injure themselves with one of those..." and produced a gun, which explained White's amusement to a tee; really, no further comment was needed.

Of course, he thought to himself, he had been the one kidding himself thinking that White possessed even a single honourable bone in his body; he only had himself to blame, he supposed.

White tossed his head, "Hmm... or, one of these," he added nonchalantly, inclining his chin a little to indicate the gun he was now pointing at Lyle, and smiled.

At that moment, the pair was interrupted by the entrance of Miss Parker, looking quite bored, and who, for reasons unknown to the two men, was casually filing her fingernails with a nail file. "My, my," she began, stowing away the nail file and perching her sunglasses on the top of her head... and then she frowned, confused on one small point only: the gun. Her confusion mustn't have lasted as long as Mr. White's because, the next second, she had her own gun trained and ready to shoot him, if need be, right through the heart. Or there about. "What's going on here?" she snapped. "Tell me you're not fighting over _me_?"

Lyle frowned, and Mr. White had the good grace to look mildly surprised. "In fact," he replied, "it's nothing to do with you, at all," White explained.

Sporting a look of scepticism, Miss Parker narrowed her eyes. "I think _I_ should be the judge of that, White."

"You're not employed to recapture Emily," he replied.

"Who?" she shot.

Lyle rolled his eyes. "Jarod's sister."

Shooting a glare at her _supposed_ brother, Miss Parker sighed heavily. "In that case," she informed White, "there's nothing you want to just confess here quickly, is there? Like the fact that you secretly have the anomaly?"

That one got him. "No, why?" he asked, with a frown, a note of genuine interest in his voice.

She smiled her nicest smile and replied, "He does."

After that, it was hardly a long shot for White to figure on to her meaning; being the company girl that she was, the favourable option here would always be her brother – who may or may not, in fact, have been her brother – merely by the fact that any children that he might have with Jarod's sister could only be seen as vastly more valuable than any of White's.

"Hmm..." Miss Parker agreed. Didn't life suck sometimes?

* * *

2.

Quietly seething, Raines shook his head and turned the postcard over to read the inscription which would tell him, as all of the others his wife had sent him since her escape from the institute, how happy she was with Alejandro whoever.

To his surprise, Edna had written that she and Alejandro had decided to adopt a child and how marvellous it was she had met Alejandro when she had and how he was doing such a lovely job of helping her to come to terms with their daughter's death.

Raines laughed. When he found out who this guy was, and where he could find him, Alejandro wouldn't be doing such a marvellous job of anything anymore then. He'd be dead!

Taking out his lighter, he thought better of it, and returned it to his pocket. He might still need the postcard for forensic purposes, he supposed, and quickly rose to his feet.

* * *

Outside Raines's office, Cox watched the older man leave and silently chuckled to himself. The guy was really losing it – thinking his dead wife had escaped from the institute he'd locked her up in and had hooked up with some guy by the name of Alejandro. Soon, he'd be taken away and he'd have his job. Yes, it was all playing out just _perfectly_. If he had even an inkling of his son's determination and perseverance, Carl would have been so very proud of him, he thought.

* * *

3.

Zoe managed a frown, confused as to why Lyle was setting her free after all the hard work Cox and the Sweeper had done to capture her in the first place, and edged cautiously in the direction of the door when Lyle shushed her there. "I don't get it," she said, finally. "Why are you letting me go?"

"Right, of course," he replied, and nodded. "Smart girl! You'd best pop back over here and hit me, give it that authentic touch."

"What?" she echoed, as confused as before, with an added touch of confusion on top.

"Cox thinks he's going to impress my sister by capturing you and then luring Jarod in the hopes of rescuing you!" He smiled. "I don't _think_ so, _Cox_! She's _my_ sister!"

Zoe made a face. That really hadn't cleared anything up.

"Don't just stand there, girlie," Lyle said. "Hit me!"

"What?" she repeated.

Shaking his head, he walked over to her and said very clearly, "I said, 'Hit me!'"

"You're letting me go because you want to show Cox up as a fool?" she asked hesitantly.

"That would be the gist of it," he agreed.

Zoe nodded and balled her hand up into a fist and punched him.

He laughed, feigning amusement. "Ow. For a girl, you really can hit. I hope you haven't been practising this hitting thing on Jarod, we don't want him too badly damaged, valuable company asset and all that he is. Run along now... no, that way." He pointed, and she hurried off in the direction that he'd indicated.

* * *

Cox scowled, at a complete loss as to how Zoe had gotten the upper hand on Lyle and managed to escape, especially with the contingency of Sweepers they'd brought along just standing around like a bunch of buffoons. Was everybody who worked for the Centre (save for himself) complete and utter morons?

"What are you just standing there for?" he barked at the Sweepers. "Find her!" He pointed in Lyle's direction. "You two, with him. I want you canvassing any and _all_ nearby hospitals and clinics. You two, the highway. And you, you're staying with me, in case she's hiding out and decides to come back this way! Get to work!"

Lyle rolled his eyes. "Do you really think she'd be fool enough to-"

"I don't want to hear it! I said, 'Find her!' and that's what I want done – I'm not just employed to stand around here all day and listen to your incompetent back chat!"

Lyle nodded, "As you wish," and turned away, only allowing himself to smile when Cox could no longer see. What an idiot! And he called _him_ incompetent! Someone had just had one over him, and the guy didn't even have the first clue!

* * *

Returning from town with the Sweepers, Lyle sighed heavily when he saw that Zoe must have been back and tied Cox and the Sweeper up before leaving again. Maybe Cox wasn't as stupid as he'd thought, after all. He'd had the right idea about Zoe, in any case.

"Unpleasantnesses aside, I assume you had no more luck than we did in recapturing the girl?"

Cox merely glared menacingly as the Sweeper ranted about some guy who'd come with the redhead and was asking all sorts of questions about Jarod's family and some information he'd been sent by someone inside the Centre which Miss Parker had thwarted his attempts to lean the contents of. That guy hadn't been nice, at all, and seeing as how the girl had stood back and let the older guy rough them up, he didn't think she was such a nice girl, either, come to think of it.

"Major Charles, you fool!" Cox hissed.

Picking Cox's cell phone up off the floor, Lyle sighed and handed it back to him. "You might want to answer that next time someone tries to call you. Of course, I suppose that might prove a tad hard seeing as you're somewhat... tied up at the moment."

Cox's menacing glare turned deadly, and Lyle smiled. "Not to worry. Boys, if we leave now, we might still have a chance of catching up on the girl and the Major."

"You have no idea which way she went!" Cox growled as Lyle took out his cell phone to call the other Sweepers still out looking for Zoe to inform them of the recent developments.

"And you said nothing, of course?" Lyle asked, pausing in his task for a moment to consider Cox. "After the girl's questions, you said nothing?"

"Of course not!" Cox ranted.

"Hmm..." Lyle nodded and began towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Cox yelled after him.

At the door, Lyle nodded to one of the Sweepers. "Stay with these two. If anything comes of it, we'll call."

"Untie me!" Cox shouted, in the background.

"And see to it that _he_ gets something to drink, maybe, if you have anything sweet – a biscuit – see if you can't persuade him to eat something; he's clearly not thinking his best. Be careful, though, he may be suffering mental trauma."

"You'll be suffering mental trauma in a moment when I get my hands on you!" Cox continued to scream.

Lyle nodded. "Lads..."

* * *

**I tried to make it humorous, though, it probably isn't. I am so bad at humour. Comments appreciated.**


End file.
